The Gloaming of the Soul
by Rochelle Templer
Summary: A case involving a child leads Sweets to draw parallels to his own troubled past, and as the team investigates, the case takes increasingly dark turns. *On hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Yes another new story. :) Don't worry, I haven't forgotten any of my other projects though. This takes place a couple of months after the end of season six.

I do not own Bones or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who reads/follows/reviews this. It's always appreciated.

The Gloaming of the Soul

Booth slowly drove along the run-down streets of a neighborhood near the edges of Virginia, taking in the scenery.

About three hours ago, the Bureau had gotten a call from a Sheriff Dean Barnes about a pair of bodies that had been found in the bushes of his town's park. The man had been shaken as he described the gory condition of the bodies and had requested assistance in figuring out who they were and what had happened to them. This subsequently led to Booth being ordered to accompany his partner, Brennan, out to this modest town to meet with Barnes.

Looking at the neighborhood as it passed him by, Booth guessed that this was probably an insular community, populated mainly by young families and their elderly relatives. It wasn't really a place that would attract tourists or businessmen, so the agent suspected that the bodies would turn out to be from this town. Meaning that some family was going to get the worst possible news in the near future.

Booth soon found the park in question and parked his car right next to the taped off area. As he got out, he saw a van with the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal lab's logo park alongside him. Once it stopped, Hodgins immediately got out and headed over to the remains after a quick nod in Booth's direction. A moment later, Brennan got out of the car with a case in her hand, and she and Booth walked toward the scene together.

"Hey Bones," he said, trying to not be too cheery. "Ok, so Sheriff Barnes here says that the bodies have probably been here for no more than four days."

"How can he be so precise?" the anthropologist asked. "I doubt that he has the forensic training necessary to make such an assessment."

"Well apparently the town just finished celebrating its 'Community Booster Days'," Booth replied.

"That's right," Barnes chimed in as he walked up behind them. "This is a close community. Everyone knows each other and everyone supports each other."

"Right, so anyway before the event happened, volunteers spent two days thoroughly cleaning up the park," Booth continued.

"I have serious doubts that no one would have said anything about…about those bodies over there," the sheriff said. "We had every inch of the park cleaned."

"That means that they had to have been placed there either during the celebration or immediately afterwards," Booth finished.

"Your reasoning is sound," Brennan conceded. The three of them continued to walk toward the corpses and soon found Hodgins kneeling down and collecting samples from on and around the bodies.

"Periplaneta Americana," the entomologist announced upon seeing them approach. "Also known as the American Cockroach. From what I'm seeing here, these bodies have been here no more than three days tops."

"Ha, what did I tell you, Bones?" Booth laughed.

"You and I both know what you said to me, so there is no need for me to repeat it," Brennan said while making a face at him. The anthropologist then crouched down near the bodies while Booth moved off to the side to get a better look at them.

"Wait a minute, are you sure that they've only been here for three days?" the agent asked, incredulous. "Because there is a whole lot of…stuff…um, missing…gone…for just three days."

"More than likely there are feral cats in the area who scavenged on the flesh," Brennan replied. "Along with any rodents in the area."

"And yet again, this is why I don't like cats," Booth snorted.

"Actually in most cases the rodents would be far more likely to strip the flesh from the bone," Brennan said. "They will sometimes even try to do it while the person is still alive. You should be grateful for natural predators like cats since they help keep the rodent population under control."

"That's why they invented mousetraps, Bones," the agent scowled.

"This one is a male, mid to late thirties," Brennan added, turning her attention to the remains. "The other is a female. Approximately the same age."

"What's that on his finger?" Booth asked. "It looks like a wedding band." The anthropologist leaned closer toward the larger of the two bodies.

"It does appear to be a wedding ring, yes," she nodded.

"I'm guessing that the two of them were married to each other," Booth said.

"Pure conjecture," Brennan frowned.

"Call it a hunch," the agent said. "So what's the story here? Is it murder?"

"Murder?" Barnes gasped. "No. It can't be murder. That kind of thing doesn't happen around here. Not in this town."

"These marks on the ribs and in what's left of the surrounding tissue definitely appear to be stab wounds," Brennan said before looking up at Barnes. "I'm afraid your community is not immune to murder, sheriff."

* * *

><p>Four hours later, both sets of remains were laying on tables on the forensic platform of the lab. Brennan, Cam and Wendell were examining them.<p>

"I concur with your assessment of stabbing, Doctor Brennan," the pathologist said. "This was a vicious attack."

"I counted fourteen stab wounds on the male," Wendell said. "And nine on the female."

"There doesn't seem to be any defensive wounds," Cam said. "And yet, I don't think that any one of these wounds would have been instantly fatal."

"I agree," Brennan said. "Cause of death is probably bleeding out due to the sheer number of injuries."

"I don't see any head trauma that would explain why they didn't fight back," Cam said.

"There might be something in the bone that could tell us something," Wendell added.

"Until then, I'm going to go ahead and run a toxicology screen along with the autopsy," the pathologist said. "That might tell us something as well. I'll start whenever you two are finished."

"We will be done in a few minutes," Brennan said as she leaned down to examine the bodies. A moment later, Angela came up onto the platform.

"You guys said something about needing some faces?" the artist said. She then looked down at what was left of the bodies and frowned. "Gross."

"Yes, you can run dentals, but facial reconstructions might be needed as well," Brennan said without looking up.

Angela sighed and proceeded to take numerous photos of each body so she could start facial reconstructions. Once she was done, she slowly backed away.

"I'll see what I can come up with from these," she said. As she left, Hodgins came up the stairs toward her.

"Hey," Angela smiled at him. "I was just getting ready to upload some pictures into my computer. But after that, I was planning on visiting Michael in day care."

"I'll join you as soon as I can," Hodgins grinned back at her. They shared a quick kiss before she left and Hodgins turned toward the others around him.

"I checked the soil samples from around the victims," the entomologist said. "Nothing of interest. No transfers from another area, so the bodies were probably not moved at any point after they died."

"Which means, according to Booth's timeline, that they were probably killed and left there on the last day of the festivities," Cam replied.

"Not exactly the way to go out with a bang," Hodgins said solemnly.

* * *

><p>Over at the Hoover Building, Booth talked to Barnes at length about the town and any possible disturbances.<p>

"No nothing," the sheriff had told him. "I mean sure, you've got some people who just don't get along with each other, but nothing major. Nothing like what you're implying. The most that happens around here is the occasional bar fight or someone keying up someone else's car."

"Similar questions about any suspicious activity during the town's celebrations also turned up nothing, leaving Booth with little to go on. At least until the victims could be identified. Booth let the sheriff go and started to fill out paperwork while he waited for something from the lab.

About an hour into his work, Booth's computer alerted him that Angela was trying to get a hold of him. A click of his mouse brought a video of her up onto his screen.

"We ID'd the victims," Angela said. "Turns out that they were in the Child Services database.

"Child Services?" Booth echoed, surprised.

"Yeah, as foster parents," the artist continued before bringing up their photos. "Mr. Donald Garlock and Mrs. Crystal Garlock. Both of them residents of the town that they were found in."

"Wait, foster parents," Booth repeated. "Do they have any kids in their custody now?" A worried look soon crossed Angela's features as she did some additional tapping on her touch pad.

"According to this, they have one child now, a boy," Angela said. "Nick LaRouche. He's only nine years old."

"We didn't find any children with the remains," Booth said rising out of his chair. "So where is the kid now?"

* * *

><p>Moments after talking to Angela, Booth was in his SUV speeding down the road back toward the town. It had taken him several tries, but eventually he was able to get a hold of Barnes on his cell phone. The agent quickly told him the identity of the victims.<p>

"The Garlocks?" Barnes gasped. "You mean that…mess I found was all that was left of the Garlocks?"

"Did you know that they had a foster kid living with them?" the agent inquired.

"Yeah, Nick LaRouche," the sheriff said. "Oh God…."

"Exactly," Booth barked into the phone. "Meet me at the Garlock's house. And be prepared to have your men start a search."

"You've got it," Barnes replied. Booth acknowledged him with a grunt and hung up so he could turn his attention back onto the road and back onto getting there as fast as he could.

* * *

><p>Soon Booth arrived at the address he was given for the Garlocks and as he drove up, he saw the sheriff pull up alongside him.<p>

"My men have already started looking around the town," Barnes said as they both got out of their cars. "So far, no one's seen Nick." Booth's gut clenched at the news.

"Hadn't anyone been missing them or the boy before now?" Booth asked.

"No. Everyone thought that they were out of town," Barnes explained. "Ethan..that's Donald's boss…said that Donald told him that him and the wife and kid were going out of town for a few days to visit Crystal's folks. We all thought that they were in Florida by now."

Booth nodded and the two of them rushed to the front door. The sheriff pounded on the door.

"Nick. Hey Nick," Barnes called out. "It's Sheriff Barnes. Open the door." The two of them waited for a few seconds before Barnes tried again to no avail.

"Sheriff we need to get in there," Booth insisted. Barnes nodded and the two of them braced themselves to ram against the door. Booth gave a count of three, and then they slammed into the door with all of their might. The wood quickly gave way under the pressure, and they rushed inside.

"Nick? Nick, are you here?" Barnes yelled as they walked around the house. "The agent silently searched around and under all of the furniture and inside a couple of closets when a muffled sob reached his ears.

"Do you hear that?" Booth said, halting the sheriff's yelling. Barnes nodded and the two of them crept toward the sound. Eventually they made their way to what looked like the boy's bedroom and as they drew closer to the bedroom closet they could hear someone crying.

"Nick, are you ok?" Barnes asked. Booth tried the knob and was started to realize that the door was locked. He then took his shoulder to it and busted the closet open to find a boy sitting on the floor crying. The stench of ammonia wafted out as Booth knelt down next to him.

"Hey, buddy, are you ok?" Booth asked.

"They…they're dead, aren't they?" the boy sobbed. "Mom and Dad are dead?"

Stunned, Booth remained silent while the child's tears increased. Not knowing what else to do in that moment, Booth gathered the child into a hug and held him close.

"It's ok, buddy," he soothed. "You're safe now. We…we'll figure something out."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I didn't abandon this one, honest. :) I apologize for taking so long to update it...and I hope to have a much smaller gap between this chapter and the next than I had between these first two.

I do not own Bones or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/reviewing this. That and your patience are always appreciated. :)

**TimeWitch93: **Well I hope that you are still intrigued. :) I will try to keep this one better updated from now on...

**Super Ario: **I try to make sure to finish all of my stories (even if some of them take me a long while to do), but I totally understand how it can be hard at times. And yes, you are right in saying that this case will hit close to home for certain members of the Bones cast, to be sure. :)

**Peanutmeg: **Thank you for the review. Yes, this one will be a difficult one to write at times, and yes, you are right in thinking that there will be certain parallels drawn. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

**Lives in the now: **Thank you. This is another one of those plots that I have been wanting to tackle for a while now, so I hope that I can pull it off. Anyway, thank you for your continued support and I hope you will enjoy these updates as I try to move forward in all of my open projects.

**D: **Well admittedly, these kind can be hard to write at times too (much like how certain sections of The Heart of the Family were not as easy to write), but I am hoping that the overall story will be enjoyable to read. As for the Garlocks...that will remain to be seen...

**Charlotte Thornton: **Thank you. I do have a lot of plans for this one, so I hope it goes well. I also hope that you enjoy this chapter too.

**Doodlechick12: **Thank you for your review and your comments about my work in general. I am sorry that I took so long to update, and I hope that you will enjoy the rest of this fic.

The Gloaming of the Soul—Chapter 2

A short while later, Booth was sitting in the waiting room of the local hospital with Barnes waiting to hear from the doctor who was attending to Nick. The two of them had taken the boy there to be checked over once he had calmed down enough to walk out on his own and after Booth had grabbed some clothes for Nick to change into.

"Well, at least we were able to find Nick," the sheriff sighed. "Still can't believe that Don and Crystal are dead….Anyway, I talked to one of the nurses a little bit ago while you were on the phone. She said that it doesn't look like anything major happened to him."

"Unless you count being locked in a closet for who knows how long," Booth scowled.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Barnes said softly. "I wonder how he ended up in there."

"Sheriff, what else can you tell me about the Garlocks?" the agent inquired. "Has there been any issues involving their custody of Nick? Any possible concerns?"

"Now wait a minute," Barnes replied. "I've known Don and Crystal for years. They're not the kind of people who would do…do what you're implying. They love kids. Always have."

"And yet apparently they didn't have any of their own," Booth said. "Is there a reason for that?"

"Crystal couldn't have any," the sheriff answered. "She was in a car accident a few years ago. Had to have major surgery. For a while there, they weren't sure if she was going to make it. They tried for a while after that and then the doctors told them that that accident had pretty much wiped out any chance of them having kids of their own."

"There's always adoption," Booth said. "Why choose the foster system instead?"

"Oh sure, there's adoption," Barnes snorted. "You ever try to adopt a baby? Don and I used to talk about this once in a while. There's the paperwork, the interviews, and a ton of other red tape to go through. But what it all boils down to in the end is money. Lots of it. Don and Crystal were good people with enough money to own their own home, have two cars and live comfortably, even if it was a bit frugally. But that wasn't enough for those agencies. And they wonder why so many kids end up spending their entire childhoods in orphanages and foster homes."

"What about their relationship with Nick in particular?" Booth asked. "Any problems at home or school?" The sheriff let out a giant sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"Look, you're probably going to find out about this soon enough, so let me tell you now," he said. "Nick LaRouche…he came from a really bad home. His natural parents weren't good people, if you get my drift."

"Child abuse," Booth replied, his expression grim.

"Yeah," Barnes nodded. "And from what I understand, it was really bad. Nick does his best to hide them, but Don's told me about some of the scars that poor kid still has…Anyway, apparently that went on until Nick was almost seven years old, and he was taken out of their custody."

"Any chance that his birth parents might have tried to find him?" Booth asked.

"Nope, and that's one of the few lucky breaks that this kid has ever gotten," Barnes answered. "Turns out that when they weren't making their kid's life a living hell, they were dealing coke, weed, you name it. Both parents were arrested during a drug raid and last I checked they're still serving time in prison."

"I take it that there wasn't any family who could take Nick in," Booth said.

"If there was any family, they weren't claiming him," Barnes said. "So anyway, after a while in the foster system, Don and Crystal ended up with him. That was little over a year ago. They had fostered a couple of other kids before…but not like Nick. Not one with his kind of background."

"Over a year?" Booth said. "That's a long time for a foster placement."

"It is," the sheriff responded. "But Nick had been having a tough time in the system, and he was doing well with the Garlocks. I guess Child Services thought that it was best to leave well enough alone. But…and here's why I brought all of this up…Nick…he's always had some problems, you know? Problems at school, problems with the neighborhood kids and with some of the adults as well. Granted, he's gotten better over time, but that's partially because he keeps to himself for the most part these days. Besides, a kid like that…you know that they're not going to just shake it off, right? It's going to take time before he gets really better."

"I understand," Booth replied, hoping his tone sounded as neutral as possible.

"I hope you do," Barnes said. "You need to know that Don was a good man, and that Crystal was one of the most generous women in this whole town. They did everything they could to help that poor boy. However Nick ended up in the state we found him in, I am sure that the Garlocks had nothing to do with it."

"That still doesn't give me much in the way of answers, Sheriff," Booth said, shaking his head. Barnes was about to say something more when the doctor, a short blond women, walked into the room. The two men stood up and walked over to her.

"Hey Cheryl," Barnes said. "How's Nick?"

"About as good as can be expected," the doctor replied, her eyes sad. "From what I can see, he hadn't had any food or water for a day or two and not much in the way of sleep during that time. Still, there shouldn't be any long term effects. At least not physical ones."

"Excuse me," Booth said. "Doctor….?"

"Tiegs," the doctor smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Cheryl…Tiegs?" Booth said, unable to hide his surprise as he shook her hand.

"Yeah, I know," Cheryl said with a wry smile. "My mom was a little too obsessed with big name fashion models. I'm getting married in three weeks, and believe me; I'm looking forward to changing my name. For now, feel free to just call me Cheryl. Everyone else does."

"Cheryl, we need to talk to Nick as soon as possible," Booth continued. "Where is he now?"

"Well right now, he's getting cleaned up and put in a room," the doctor said. "I see that you brought some clothes for him to change into, and I'm glad. All we have around here are hospital gowns and scrubs that wouldn't really fit him. But…can I ask what this is about?"

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth," Booth said, producing his badge.

"He's from the FBI," Barnes added. "You know those bodies in the park? They were the Garlocks?" Booth glared at the sheriff but remained silent.

"Oh God," Cheryl said. "I can't believe….I was just talking to Crystal a few days ago. She said that she and Don were coming to the wedding…Poor Nick."

"Has there been problems for Nick before?" the agent asked. "Perhaps he might have been brought in to this hospital for treatment?"

"Not…not much. Not really," the doctor said, shaking her head. "Nothing unexpected anyway."

"What do you mean?" Booth asked, suddenly tense.

"Well Nick used to get into fights with the local kids when he first moved here," Cheryl replied. "He got pretty banged up a couple times and needed stitches. But fortunately, he's been keeping himself out of trouble recently, so there hasn't been any incidents of late."

A nurse appeared in the waiting room and Cheryl acknowledged her with a nod before turning her attention back toward Booth.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some things that I need to attend to," she said. "In the meantime, the nurses can lead you to Nick's room if you need to talk to him, but I'll warn you though that he's really shaken up. Plus, he's always been wary of strangers, so he might not say much to you."

"I'll make sure to go easy on him," Booth assured her.

* * *

><p>A few moments later, Booth stood in the doorway of Nick's room, watching the boy sitting on the bed. Nick was sitting on the edge, letting his legs dangle over the side, while staring out the window. He had jumped a little when he heard Booth approach the room, but after seeing who it was, Nick returned his gaze back to the world outside. Eventually, the agent walked into the room, picked up a chair, and placed it next to the bed.<p>

"Hey Nick," Booth said as he sat down. "How are you doing?" Nick shrugged. "I brought you some stuff to wear, so you don't have to stay in that hospital gown."

The boy watched Booth's every movement as the agent sat a plastic bag with some clothes onto the bed. Nick pulled at the sleeves of his hospital gown, yanking them downward to cover his arms, and Booth was sickened to see what looked like circular burn scars dotting the boy's flesh.

"My name is Seeley Booth," he continued. "I work for the FBI." Booth then pulled out his badge again and held it out to Nick. The boy gingerly took the wallet from him and studied it carefully with his dark blue eyes.

"Are you going to take me away now?" Nick nearly whispered, still looking down at the badge in his hands.

"I'm just here to talk to you is all," Booth answered. Nick nodded and handed him his badge back before staring out the window again.

"Thank you," Nick said. "For letting me out."

"No problem," Booth said. "How long had you been in there?"

"I don't know," Nick shrugged. "A couple days, I guess. I know that it got dark then light at least twice while I was in there….I…I'm sorry."

"For what?" Booth asked.

"I uh…" Nick's cheeks turned pink as he spoke. "I…sort of made a mess in the closet. I'm sorry. I tried to hold it as long as I could, but…."

"Hey, it's ok," Booth assured him. "No one's upset with you over that. There's not a lot you can do when you got to go, right?"

"I guess not," Nick said as he started to swing his legs back and forth.

"You know, I have a son about your age," Booth said. "His name is Parker. And I'll bet that he likes some of the same things that you do…."

The two of them proceeded to talk about various video games and TV shows that they had seen. At first, Nick mainly listened as Booth mentioned these things or would only give one word replies to his questions. But eventually, Booth was able to get Nick talking and the boy even started to smile once in a while. After a few minutes of this, Booth decided that it was time to move on to a couple of the more difficult questions.

"Nick," he said. "I know that this is going to be tough to talk about, but I need to ask: how did you end up in that closet?"

Any trace of calm or cheer that Nick had instantly vanished at that question. The boy then immediately turned away from him.

"I can't talk about that," Nick said.

"Nick," Booth tried again. "It's all right. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I just need to know who…."

"No!" Nick yelled, still facing away from him. "I can't talk about that. I can't."

Nick flopped forward on the bed and buried his face into his pillow. Booth thought about what he might try to do next when the sound of footsteps caused him to stand and turn toward the doorway.

"Is everything all right in here?" Cheryl asked as she entered the room. Booth started to say something, but was interrupted by another woman walking in.

"Excuse me, my name is Mary Graham," the woman said. "I'm with Child Services. What is going on here?" Booth moved over to them and showed Graham his badge.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth," he said as he put his badge back in his pocket. "I'm here investigating the murders of Mr. and Mrs. Garlock."

"And you're interrogating Nick without an advocate present?" Graham asked.

"No," Booth said, irritation creeping into his tone. "I'm trying to find out how he ended up in a locked closet for about two days. Perhaps it had something to do with the people he was placed with. Tell me, when was the last time anyone from your office checked in on the Garlocks?"

"According to my records there was a home-visit about a month ago," Graham said, narrowing her eyes. "And from we have seen thus far, Nick was doing well in the Garlock's care."

"Don and Crystal wouldn't hurt Nick," Cheryl insisted. "I just can't believe that." Booth felt like saying more, but decided that it would be better to keep his thoughts to himself.

"What is going to happen to Nick now?" he asked instead.

"I'm afraid he is going to have to go to a group home for now," Graham sighed.

"Can't another foster home take him?" Booth asked.

"It's not that simple, Agent Booth," the social worker said. "Nick is a special needs child and not every foster home is equipped to handle someone like him with his background. We just do not have anyone available in the area who can take him right now."

Booth looked over at the figure on the bed. As much as he hated the idea, he knew that there was nothing he could do about Nick's fate within the system.

"I still need to talk to him at some point," Booth said. "We need to find out what happened to the Garlocks, and Nick may know something."

"I can make arrangements for you to talk to him after he is settled," Graham said.

"Please do," Booth said. "And just so you'll know, I will be bringing someone with me to talk to him as well."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Next chapter. As always, I have not forgotten about any open projects and will get to them as soon as possible.

I do not own Bones or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.

**Peanutmeg: **Thanks for the review. :) I will admit that it felt a little weird to not have Sweets in the first two chapters, but yeah, I wanted to put out the sense that Sweets is a part of all this even when he's not directly mentioned. I hope you enjoy this update as well.

**Lives in the now: **Yes, sadly it took me a while to figure out for sure how to progress, but I am hoping that I am back on track now. And as you have guessed, there will be a lot of thoughts about our characters as children, adults and parents in this one...

**Charlotte Thornton: **Thank you. I did have several ways that I was thinking about this, and I have finally sorted it out, I think. :) I hope you enjoy the rest of this one.

The Gloaming of the Soul—Chapter 3

Back over at the lab, Wendell had just finished laying out the Garlocks' skeletons onto a pair of examination tables, having recently cleaned the bones. He had glanced over each bone as he placed it on the table in the hopes of getting a jump on gathering some useful findings to report to Brennan. He soon realized, however, the futility of the endeavor and concentrated instead on making sure that the skeleton was perfectly aligned.

'_Doctor Brennan would want the remains treated as a whole during the examination,'_ he thought to himself. '_Not as individual pieces. Best just to do things the usual way.'_

He was about to begin a more thorough examination when Cam walked into the room.

"Anything new, Mr. Bray?" the pathologist asked him.

"Nothing yet," Wendell said sheepishly. "I just finished cleaning the skeletons."

"Well I can tell you why there weren't any defensive wounds," Cam said. "Tox screens on the victims' tissue revealed large amounts of diazepam in their systems."

"Valium," Wendell nodded. "A strong sedative like that could explain why they weren't able to fight back at the time of death."

"Yes, and it turned out that the woman had a higher concentration of it in her system than the husband did," she continued. "My guess is that she had been taking Valium for some time. Probably as a prescription."

"Is it possible that that was what killed her?" Wendell asked.

"It's possible," Cam nodded. "But if she had been taking it for a while, it's also possible that she had built up a resistance to it. This probably was not enough to kill her."

"So both of them had taken an excess of the wife's prescription medication," Wendell said. "Why?"

"That's what we're here to find out, Mr. Bray," Cam said as she left the room.

* * *

><p>After leaving Nick at the hospital with Graham, Booth returned to DC and spent a few minutes talking with Brennan at the lab about the latest findings. He then made some phone calls to Child Services which resulted in him getting a copy of Nick's and the Garlocks' file with them delivered to the Hoover Building by the time he arrived back at his office. He then studied both sets of files until he got a call about where Nick would be staying until another foster home could be found for him. Not long afterward, he and Sweets were in Booth's SUV, speeding over to the address Child Services had given.<p>

While they were riding over there, Booth got Sweets up to speed on the basics of the case and then gave him the files to read over. The psychologist had read in silence which Booth found unusual. Normally, Sweets would ask questions or make comments about his first impressions while reading over case files. This time, however, Sweets appeared to be completely absorbing into the information he was reading.

"You said that you found Nick in a locked closet," Sweets said as he finished reading. Booth noted the tremor in the therapist's hands as he closed the file folders.

"Yeah, I did," Booth replied. "Apparently he had been there for a couple of days. I tried to get him to tell me what happened, but he got really upset and wouldn't say a word about it."

"Probably because he was scared," Sweets said. "He probably learned a long time ago about what would happen if he ever tried to tell anyone about what was being done to him…about the kinds of punishments that would be in store for him."

Booth continued to glance over and watch Sweets as best he could while still minding the road. All of that had been said with a faraway look in the therapist's eyes, and Booth wondered how much of it was Sweets' impressions of the case and how much of it was the psychologist's own memories tumbling out.

"Sweets…are you going to be ok during this case?" Booth asked him cautiously.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" Sweets answered, his voice clipped. Booth was sure that he could think of several answers to that question, but the look on Sweets' face swiftly put a halt to any possibility of him speaking them aloud.

"We need to know as much as possible about the Garlocks and who might have wanted to hurt them or maybe even Nick," Booth said instead. "And that means that we will need to keep talking to Nick. I know that this isn't going to be easy or pleasant, but I need you to get as much out of him as possible."

"I understand," Sweets replied, using a little more force than called for. The psychologist remained silent for the rest of the ride, leaving Booth to his own thoughts.

The agent continued to keep an eye on Sweets as best he could. He could relate to how he was sure the therapist felt about cases like this. Ever since Brennan had mentioned discovering the scars on Sweets' back, Booth had suspected that the psychologist had gotten them from his birth parents. More than likely his biological father…much like how Booth had gotten a couple of scars of his own.

Still, Booth had been reluctant to probe into that aspect of Sweets' life partially because he understood how difficult and painful it was for him to just think about it. After a few awkward moments in the past between them, Sweets had come to an identical conclusion in regards to Booth, and thus there was usually an unspoken agreement to avoid any discussion of that part of their histories.

That did not mean, however, that these histories could rise up to the surface of their hearts and minds during a case like this, and truthfully, Booth was a little worried about this case in particular. He remembered how contemplative Sweets had been during the "cougar case" involving Liam Moloney and then how strongly the psychologist had reacted during the case involving the deaf, mute girl, Samantha Winslow. Each time, Booth had sensed that there were elements in those cases that resonated with the therapist's own childhood, and now he couldn't help but feel concerned and more than a little angry, that aspects of this case were going to serve as even stronger reminders to Sweets of those darker corners of his past.

Sweets continued to watch the road ahead of him, grim determination etched into his features. Booth knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from keeping a close eye on Sweets, but he also made the decision to give the psychologist space to work….along with space to face his own demons however he needed to.

* * *

><p>They eventually arrived at the group home, and Booth parked the car at the edge of the parking lot. As they walked up to the entrance, the two of them took in the chain link fence, the plastic playground equipment with sun-bleached colors, and the metal swing sets and monkey bars whose paint was chipped and peeling. The building itself was an imposing brick structure with opaque windows and little in the way of cheer.<p>

"Wasn't there anyway that Nick could have been placed into another foster home?" Sweets asked. "An emergency placement or something?"

"According to his caseworker, this was the best that they could do," Booth replied, shaking his head. "She said that she didn't have anyone who could take in a special needs child on such short notice." Booth noted the way that Sweets flinched at the "special needs" label, but was careful to not pursue it.

"Sure, of course not," Sweets said, his tone cold. "So the best they could do was to send Nick here."

"It doesn't look great, sure, but it's probably not too bad, right?" Booth said. "I mean, compared to living on the streets or something."

"No, not compared to living on the streets," Sweets said quietly. "But not a whole lot better either. This…this is the place that no kid wants to end up in."

Booth nodded, and the two of them walked inside. Booth talked to a woman at the reception desk, and soon they were met by Graham.

"Nick can see you in a couple of minutes, Agent Booth" she informed them. "And this is…?"

"This is Doctor Lance Sweets," Booth answered. "He's a psychologist with the FBI." The therapist nodded, his face devoid of emotion aside from bland congeniality.

"Had Nick been showing any signs of distress when you did any home visits at the Garlocks' place?" Sweets asked.

"As I already explained to Agent Booth, no he hasn't," Graham sighed. "I don't know how much experience you have dealing with special needs children, Doctor Sweets, but you need to know that, no matter how much care you put into them, there are always going to be issues. Things were not perfect, to be sure, but the Garlocks were doing everything that they could for that child. It's not as if they can be blamed for the damage already done or the unlikelihood that Nick will ever be truly normal."

Booth watched as a subtle tic made its way onto Sweets' face. Concerned and disgusted at the turn this conversation was taking, the agent decided to take back control.

"We would like to talk to Nick now, if at all possible," he said. "And Doctor Sweets would also like to discuss with Nick any possible problems he might be having with what happened to the Garlocks or anything else that he's been through."

"We have a counselor here for the children to talk to," Graham bristled.

"And has Nick been talking to him or her?" Booth asked. Graham said nothing, and the agent nodded, knowing that he had his answer. "Then I think it would be good for Doctor Sweets to try to talk to him, given what's happened, don't you?"

* * *

><p>The three of them walked down the hallway and into a small, bare room with some metal folding tables and chairs. Nick was sitting by himself at one of the tables, his head down as he stared at the half eaten plate of food in front of him. A moment later, a stout woman with horn-rimmed glasses and a large briefcase entered the room.<p>

"Agent Booth? I'm Ms. Reiner," she said. "I'll be acting as Nick's advocate during this interrogation."

"It's not going to be like that," Booth assured her, his hands held out in front of him with his palms facing downward. "We're just going to ask him a couple questions about when he last saw the Garlocks."

"That may be," Reiner sniffed. "But I will still need to be here for this. I've seen one too many incidents where the overzealousness on the part of law enforcement has led to a complete disregard of a child's rights."

Booth stifled the urge to roll his eyes or frown at her statements and joined Reiner and Sweets in walking over to where Nick was sitting while Graham left the room. At the sound of all of them approaching, Nick finally looked up, his eyes full of agitation.

"Hey Nick, do you remember me?" Booth asked as he and Sweets sat down across from him.

"Yeah, I remember you," Nick mumbled as his eyes darted about. "You're that guy from the FBI. Agent Booth."

"That's right," Booth replied. "And I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine." Sweets' face lit up with a smile.

"I'm Doctor Lance Sweets," the therapist said. "You can call me Lance…or Sweets, if you want. That's what everyone else calls me."

"Sweets? That's a weird name," Nick shrugged. "You're a doctor?"

"I'm a psychologist," Sweets said.

"Oh, like Miss Coffey," Nick nodded. "She talks to me whenever I'm here and she's always wanting me to talk to her about stuff. That kind of doctor."

"That's exactly right," Sweets nodded.

"And I'm Ms. Reiner," the advocate said as she sat down next to him. "I'm here to make sure that your best interests are protected."

Nick shrugged again and looked back down at his plate, poking at his food with his fork. Reiner pulled out a yellow legal pad and a pen and gave a nod to Booth as a signal that the questioning could begin.

"Nick, could you tell me about the last time that you saw your foster parents?" Booth asked. "Anything you remember would be great."

"Ok, I guess," Nick mumbled. "Don and Crystal were getting ready for some picnic thing in the park the last time I saw them. They had packed some food to take and everything."

"Did you go with them?" Booth asked. Nick shook his head.

"No…I had to stay home," he said. "They were mad at me, and they said that I couldn't go."

"Why were they mad at you?" the agent inquired.

"I don't know," Nick said. "They sometimes get mad at me for stuff…I asked if I could go with them, but they said no."

"Did anything strange happen?" Booth asked. "Did someone stop by maybe? Someone you know or even someone you didn't know?"

"No…except Miss Deelander," Nick responded. "I saw her and Don talking outside on the porch right before he and Crystal left. She sometimes comes by the house and Don always talks to her alone."

Booth made sure to make a note of this "Miss Deelander" for future reference before clasping his hands together and leaning toward Nick.

"Nick…I know that things didn't go so well last time, but I need to ask you again about how you ended up in that closet," he said.

"No," Nick whimpered as he backed his chair away. "You don't understand. I can't talk about that. They said that…I just can't, ok?"

"Who said?" Booth asked. "Who told you this?"

"No!" Nick said, slamming a fist against the table. "I can't talk about it. I can't. Stop asking me. Just stop it!"

"I think that this interview is over for now, Agent Booth," Reiner said, rising to her feet. Booth was about to protest, but the way that Nick was shaking and hiding his face changed his mind. It was clear that pushing him would do more harm than good. He gave Sweets a meaningful glance, and the psychologist nodded in reply.

"All right, Ms. Reiner," the agent said, standing up. "I think we can hold off for now. How about we go and discuss setting up some times for us to meet again for more questions so that we can continue to work on this case?"

Reiner gave a curt nod and picked up her notepad. She was about to follow Booth into the hallway, but began to stare at Sweets instead.

"Doctor Sweets is not here to ask Nick anything about the case," Booth assured her. "He just wants the same you do: to make sure that Nick's welfare is protected. So why don't we talk this over outside and give them some privacy?"


End file.
